


Come Out Of The Woodwork

by thesoundofnat



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Confessions, Haircuts, Kissing, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), idk what else to tag this with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 08:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13899765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesoundofnat/pseuds/thesoundofnat
Summary: “You look just like that kid from Brooklyn,” he’d told Steve, who had let out a wet laugh.“And you just like you’ve just come back from war.”And in a way, he had.(Or, Steve cuts Bucky’s hair and Bucky shaves Steve’s beard, and it feels both right and wrong.)





	Come Out Of The Woodwork

Bucky had been thinking about it for weeks, but his inability to share even the seemingly most silly notions with anyone around him had resulted in Steve not knowing about it, and yet he’d suggested it himself one quiet evening after the world had changed.

“Do you want me to cut your hair?”

The hair. He had a complicated relationship with it. On one hand, the shoulder-length locks (as Sam had once called them) was a reminder of all the things he’d done. Of what he’d once been forced to be. But on the other it was proof that he wasn’t the same Bucky Barnes who had gone out to fight Nazi Germany, and he didn’t expect himself to be.

He’d shifted in his seat, looked up at Steve’s hovering form standing beside the couch. “Do you want me to shave your beard?”

It had been an odd request, but Bucky still remembered the mumbled confession one particularly hard day. How Steve had compared his facial hair to something akin to how Bucky labeled his hair. A sign of change, possibly of hope, but mostly of pain.

But Steve had agreed, and ten minutes later they’d been standing in the bathroom as Steve brought the scissors to Bucky’s head.

That night he’d cut off as much of Bucky’s hair that was needed for him to look like his old self, and in return Bucky had helped him cut and then shave the hair hiding Steve’s face from the world, and when they’d looked at each other Bucky had felt more than a little wrong.

“You look just like that kid from Brooklyn,” he’d told Steve, who had let out a wet laugh.

“And you just like you’ve just come back from war.”

And in a way, he had.

He’d styled his hair differently - partly because he wanted something to be different, partly because he wasn’t about to look as old as he was. It became visible on Steve first, of course, and Bucky didn’t question why he didn’t seem to actually be shaving after the initial session.

But as the months passed it became apparent that he wasn’t cutting his hair either, and while they never returned to the state they’d been on that quiet night, it was obvious that they didn’t want to be like they were in the 40s either.

“You need a haircut, Barnes.”

Bucky looked at Sam and knew he knew what cutting his hair meant, which also meant that Sam thought it was better to face his demons rather than to completely ignore them. Bucky listened to Sam more often than not now, but the thought of leaving his neck exposed again terrified him.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” he asked, adopting an offended tone that wouldn’t fool anyone.

Sam licked his lips. “The split ends can be seen from outer space. I’m sure Thor himself is judging you up there.”

“Rude. Steve, do you see how rude he is to me?”

Steve was sitting across from him, having evidently been thinking of other things. “Sam, stop being rude to Bucky.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay,  _mom_. But you gotta admit he needs that haircut.”

Steve met Bucky’s gaze. “Maybe,” he admitted, and Bucky shook his head.

“I’m not cutting my hair.”

Only that was a lie, because he found himself in the bathroom that same evening, the pale light making his reflection look ghostly. Steve was once again holding the scissors because at this point he didn’t trust anyone else to do this. To do something that brought him so much complexity.

“You sure you want this?”

“No. But it’s just hair.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

Bucky looked at Steve’s reflection. “But I want it to be. It’s not supposed to be more than that.”

Steve’s face softened, but he didn’t say a word. Only brought the scissors to Bucky’s hair and cut a strand off.

Bucky inhaled slowly as Steve cut, forcing his body to relax. If he stared at his own face long enough he could pretend he was different. That he wasn’t this shell of a person just trying to get by.

“Buck?”

Bucky hadn’t noticed him stopping, but he noticed the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Yeah?” Bucky trusted that almost smile.

“I have an idea.”

* * *

 

“Please stop.”

Bucky did, but apparently he wasn’t above whining about it. “It feels good.”

Steve laughed, his face semi visible in the dim room. “It gets uncomfortable after a while.”

“Playing with my hair doesn’t, and yet you keep stopping.”

“Can’t give you  _everything_ you want, can I?”

Bucky reached out again to run a finger down Steve’s cheek. “Apparently you can’t give me anything, or you’d let me caress you for hours.”

Steve batted his hand away. “I told you. It feels weird.”

“Not to me.”

“If you don’t stop I won’t ever play with your hair again.”

“Low blow,” Bucky muttered and withdrew his hand. “It’s not my fault, though. This whole thing was your idea.”

Steve had suggested they only cut parts of Bucky’s hair, leaving it not too long and not too short. And, in turn, they didn’t shave all of Steve’s beard of either, instead leaving a nice stubble that Bucky was obsessed with.

Deciding against his urge to touch once more, he instead reached out to grab Steve’s hand, pulling it up against his lips. The darkness in the room made him feel bolder, but his heart was still hammering against his chest during the seconds it took Steve to react.

Curling his fingers around Bucky’s hand, Steve moved closer to kiss the back of it, his eyelashes tickling Bucky’s knuckles. His breath hot against his skin. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat.

“Is this okay?” Steve asked, as if Bucky hadn’t initiated it all himself. He nodded wordlessly, glad that his suddenly burning face wasn’t on full display.

He could see Steve’s smile, though. Could tell it was genuine. Steve let go of his hand, ran his fingers through his hair once, and then leaned in to brush his lips lightly against Bucky’s.

Bucky’s chest exploded, but he couldn’t think of a sweeter end.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://thesoundofnat.tumblr.com/).


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